


Somewhere Over The Rainbow

by draca (wyvernwolf)



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernwolf/pseuds/draca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end it was just him, and the sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere Over The Rainbow

All he could taste was ashes in his mouth. Everything he ate or drank tasted dry and dusty. He had lost his appetite and he was losing weight that he could ill afford to, thanks to the coma. His already baggy suits were swallowing his slight frame up even more and his colleagues were starting to notice.

He'd been pale before, and lying in a hospital bed for months hadn't helped, but now his palor was even worse and the shadows under his eyes served only to accentuate his lack of colour. The longer sideburns when paired with his short hair made him stand out further from his contemporaries.

He who was usually so aware of how he looked and took such care in how he presented himself was starting to not care and it was showing.

It was just that he was so confused. He'd fought so hard to return to 2006, to what he thought was his time, his home. But now he was here, doubts were starting to creep in that this was home. He felt even more out of place here than he had back in 1973. He missed the smoky confines of CID listening to Ray, Chris and the others bitching about paperwork or work in general, sharing a laugh with Annie, or just getting into an argument with Gene. 1973; where the evenings were almost always spent at the pub with the team, drinking and generally getting completely bladdered together.

It wasn't like that here. Things here were impersonal, sterile. The atmosphere was restrained, there was no shouting, raised voices or swearing in CID, and god forbid someone should try and have a game of football in the office. Everyone sat at their cubicles staring at their computer monitors, focused on their own work. There was no idle chit chat or good natured ribbing. People here were intent on solving the crime, getting a collar and getting ahead, the very things he had despaired of ever seeing in the CID of 1973. The end of the day here was signalled by general goodbyes and see you tomorrows before everyone went their own separate ways. No calls of beer o'clock here. He usually spent his evenings sitting in front of, but not watching, his television, drinking and dreaming of 1973.

He'd only spent a few months in 1973 and not a day had passed when he hadn't found something to complain about, but now he realised that he had enjoyed himself there. He'd initially been lonely without his Mum and Maya and he'd had to survive without the modern conveniences that he was accustomed to, but Gene and the others had slowly become people he cared about, and who he hoped cared about him. Things might not have been as comfortable as 2006 but he'd finally been living instead of the surviving he'd been doing since he'd made DCI.

He felt dislocated, out of sync with the rest of the world. He'd felt like that in 1973 as well, but he'd adapted and begun to enjoy the rough and tumble and sheer exhilaration that came from living in a world where the rules were more flexible. He knew that he could probably re-accustom himself to 2006, but he didn't know if he wanted to.

The city was spread before him in all it's 2006 glory of steel high-rise offices and apartments but all he could see was the city that he had left behind. The city that had Gene, Annie and the others. The city where he had learned to live again. And he finally understood, and he knew what he wanted to do.

In the end it was just him, and the sky. And he was finally happy. He was going home.

-Fin-


End file.
